


Spin Me Around

by DandylionPuff



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandylionPuff/pseuds/DandylionPuff
Summary: Modern AU.Rose Tico has a chance encounter with a prickly pole dancer (Hux)One shot unless I decide to add to it later.It’s slap dash and wildly self indulgent but meh I wanted to write it.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 18
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

She was mesmerized the moment his hand connected with the pole. He was a rippling wave, a spider suspended on a silken thread and her mouth ran dry every time his spell binding rotations brought his ice blue eyes into the path of her own. 

Next to her, her friend Rey, leaned drunkenly in a pink feather boa and cheap tiara that read “21 and ready for fun”, and whispered wetly into her ear, “See? I knew this was a good idea!” 

It had started innocently enough. Rey and Rose had been putting the finishing touches on an old T-bird when her young friend had mentioned it was her birthday. Heads had poked out excitedly from every corner of Rebel Motors, the custom body shop where they worked, and everyone in ear shot had quickly made plans to take the small thin girl bar hopping. What they didn’t realize was how much the petite girl could drink. They had been to three bars before landing in this strip club and Rey had flushed out the group down to just her and Kaydel, who had passed out on the pleather sofa right as the first act had stepped out on stage. Now Rose was trapped. Kaydel had the keys wedged solidly under her huge sequin spandex clad butt and Rey had a death grip on her in one hand and an impossibly large margarita in the other. 

Rose turned her attention back to the pole dancer hovering over her on the small LED lit stage. It was hard not to look. The lean lanky man was liquid grace suspended only by the crook of his knee and the pad of a foot and he drew everyone in the room’s eyes to him like a pale slender magnet. His hair flashed scarlet in the strobe lights. The pink and blue jewels of light from the overhead disco ball practically bedazzled his abdominals. 

It wasn’t just the dancing that was pooling a tingling warmth down in the pit of her stomach. It was the way he seemed to be looking at her. Staring down into her eyes every time his lithe frame spun his face into view. It was impossible of course, probably a trick of the light, but it was doing things to her that she didn’t want to think about. 

At least until suspended upside down from the pads of his feet he gave a salute, flipped down on to all fours, turned to her over his shoulder and winked. 

Then she couldn’t ignore it. Rose stood abruptly, the plastic seat of the sectional popping wetly from her thighs and mumbled an excuse. She squeezed her way over wads of gum and past a disgruntled looking server and tried to walk normally towards the exit. She needed some air. 

She was just about to duck past the stage when something snagged around her neck and pulled her backwards. With a gag she stumbled. A firm arm circled around her torso. 

The dancer’s face hung inches from her own. Rose reached for her neck and felt the soft silk of a neck tie. Ice blue eyes smirked into her own, “Am I boring you?” He sneered down at her in a sinfully sexy British accent. 

Rose did three things that she immediately regretted. First her cheeks burned scarlet, then a simply indecent sounding squeak escaped from her lips and finally (and most horribly) she head butted the dancer right in his beautiful face. He swore as blood spewed from his nose and Rose ripped herself away to dash out the door. 

She was about half way across the parking lot when she heard him call after her. She was two steps from the sidewalk when he called her a thief. 

Rose whirled and pointed a wild finger in indignation, “What did you just call me?”

The man practically sauntered across the lot as he wiped the blood from his chin, “I called you a bloody little thief.” He stopped an arms length away and motioned towards her other hand with a huff, “You made off with my tie, it comes out of my check if I lose it.” 

Rose glanced down at her hand. The silken tie was still wrapped around her hand. Rose frowned down at it. She tossed it towards the much taller man with a scoff and turned to leave. 

His voice turned soft and apologetic, “I’m sorry if I upset you. Truly....” Rose scuffled her boot in the asphalt as he wiped the remainder of the blood from his nose. 

He grinned sheepishly down at her, “The actual intent was to flirt with you. I presume I was not successful?” 

Rose blushed and shook her head, “Not really,” She gestured towards his face, “Sorry I panicked.” 

He laughed a dry chuckle that rustled like autumn leaves and smiled, “Pity. Maybe next time?” 

She blanched and looked over his shoulder at the worn out entrance, “I don’t think—“

He pressed his lips into a thin half smirk of a smile, “I don’t need your patronage.” He leaned forward and closed the distance until their noses were inches apart. 

“I do need your number.” He whispered.


	2. Tilde we meet again~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Hux are bad at texting...and flirting.

“That’s a pretty name,” the text read, “makes sense...a pretty name for a pretty girl. It suits you~” 

Rose chewed her lip to the point of tasting iron as she stared down at the neon green speech bubble. She rolled off the creaking daybed and stumbled over to the little barely a kitchen that sat nestled in the corner of the tiny apartment she and her sister Paige shared. She slumped down at the small bar separating it from the not quite living room she used as a bedroom. Paige was scrambling eggs at the stove. She slid a plate of bacon and a cup of tea towards Rose with one hand and ducked into the fridge for more ingredients with the other. 

Rose nibbled on a crispy piece as she watched. 

Paige didn’t even look up to ask, “I know that look, something up.”

Rose huffed and swallowed, “What look? I’m behind you.”   
Paige grinned and flipped the eggs into a tight roll with a pair of chopsticks, “I can feel it radiating off my back, Rosie, you’re itching to rant about something.” 

Rose grinned sheepishly and picked up another piece of bacon, “Why do men always text so...weird?” 

Paige turned and raised an incredulous eyebrow, “Now that was not what I was expecting.” She laughed and slipped the egg roll onto a cutting board. She reached for a knife and pointed it playfully at Rose.

“Is someone sending you dick pics Rosie?”

Rose blanched and took a quick sip of her tea, “No! Of course not!” At that moment her phone chimed treacherously. Paige’s eyes flashed like a tiger and she quickly reached over the bar to snatch up Rose’s phone. 

“Oh ho ho! What do we have here?” She spun the phone out of reach as Rose went to make a grab for it. She looked down at the screen devilishly then held the phone to her chest and pressed a hand dramatically to her forehead, “Oh Rose! I can live without you!” She crooned in a deep falsetto. Rose yelped and wrenched the phone out of her hands. The cutting board rattled and threatened to dive over the side of the counter. Paige quickly caught it and set it back safely in place. 

“It doesn’t say that,” Rose protested burying the phone in the pouch pocket of her sweatshirt. Paige resumed, slicing the egg roll into neat bite size pieces and grinned, “Maybe not exactly but I’m sure I got the sentiment down.” 

Rose chanced a peek down at her phone. One new notification...

“I can’t stop thinking about you~”

She crinkled her nose to hide the blush that threatened to spread over her cheeks. She took a sip of tea to cool her head. 

Paige popped a bite of egg in her mouth and poured herself a cup of tea, “but if you want to know what that little squiggly thing on the end means I can tell you.” 

Rose perked up and leaned forward, “Oh yeah? What does it mean?” 

Paige waggled an eyebrow and grinned, “It means he wants to fuck.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Armitage wiped the sweat from his brow and frowned down at his phone between sets. No notifications and he had been left on read for over an hour. He slumped down in the too small folding chair behind the stage and took a large swig of his water. The excess splashed down on his bare chest. He grimaced and shivered as it began to evaporate into the cool stale air of the club. 

A towel landed in his lap, “Not like you to spill. You okay Sheriff?” Armitage glanced up towards the voice and half frowned at the petite man in front of him. Mitaka had a sincere softness of speech that was at stark odds with the pair of bedazzled chaps he now wore. He grabbed the towel and mopped up the water glistening from his own pair.

“Nothing you should be concerned about—Deputy,” He drawled, “ there’s a divorce party out there you know. Better be careful they don’t eat you alive.” He suppressed a grin as Mitaka’s face fell pale. He savored the expression of pure terror on the younger man’s face before he began to walk towards the break room. 

“I’ll back you up in a bit,” he offered slapping the shorter man on the shoulder, “nature calls.” 

But that wasn’t exactly the truth. In fact no one was calling him. That was the problem. He stomped into the break room and threw his phone down on the linoleum table. 

“It’s not working you ass” he spat. 

The only other occupant of the room, a rather indecent looking pilot, raised his sequined cap and yawned, “the language of amore takes time my guy.” He let the cap fall back and settled back into repose. 

Armitage snatched the hat off his dark curly head, “you said if I sent that smarmy swill she would call me within the hour Dameron,” he swatted at him with the cap and growled, “It’s been two and she thinks I’m a freak!” 

Poe Dameron stretched long like a cat and walked over to the table. He sat and grabbed the phone, flipping through the texts, “Oh man, you sent two in a row?” He wiped a hand over his face and groaned, “You gotta space them out man. Didn’t I tell you that?” 

Armitage swiped the phone away from him, “No you did not.” 

Dameron grinned and shrugged, actively ignoring the pointed glare Armitage sent his way, “my bad.” 

Armitage slumped down into the seat across from him, “What am I going to do?” 

The curly haired man yawned and grabbed back his hat, “You’re going to stop obsessing over it like a teenage girl and give the woman some space dude. Who cares if you put too much bait on the hook. If she’s into it she’ll still bite.” 

At that moment his phone chimed brightly. 

Dameron stuck out his tongue and sauntered towards the door, “See what did I tell you?”


	3. Slush and Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Rose ignore social distancing guidelines. Which is fine.

Rose fidgeted with the zipper of her hoodie for the seven hundredth time. It was fine. She was fine. It was no big deal. After all it wasn’t like it was a DATE or anything. She took her phone out from the pouch pocket of her hoodie for the fourth time that minute and quickly swiped over to examine the plan in all of its vague totally not a date glory. 

“Your wish is my command. I’ll be there by 7. Tell me the flavor that will win me your favor~”

Rose smiled a ghost of a smile as her lips wordlessly went over her answer. Cherry. 

She shoved her phone back into her pocket and rocked back on her heels trying to look natural. Normal. She was normal. Perfectly normal. It was all perfectly normal. It wasn’t a big deal at all. She could talk to whoever she wanted. Text who ever she wanted. They were friends sort of. They had their banter. He was just coming by to bring her a slushy because she had whined and pined for one to be funny. He was just carrying on their joke to it’s conclusion. He was being friendly in the contrary haughty way that shouldn’t have made her stomach flip but did. He was just like that though. It didn’t mean anything. He was just weirdly gentleman like but also silly. Like the squiggle at the end of all of his sentences. Confusing and kind of flirty...

Rose shook her head and slapped her cheeks. The image of her knife wielding sister flashed through her brain. 

He wants to fuck~

“He just bringing me a slushy!” She growled. 

“Who’s bringing you a slushy?” Piped a tiny voice. Rose whirled towards the back of the shop. She sighed in relief at the girl standing there. 

“Geez Rey you scared the bejesus out of me. What are you still doing in the shop?” 

Rey adjusted the safety goggles perched on her pert little nose and grinned wryly, “You’re not the only one working overtime Rosie, I’ve got to get this baby done tonight.” 

Rose grinned and leaned over the hood of the car she had been working on before the obligatory fidget phone check, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that Fast and Furious fiancé of your’s would it?” 

Rey flushed with a grimaced and dove under the hood of a jet black coup. Rose smirked as the fluorescent lights of the shop glinted off the unique silver hood ornament. A knight’s chess piece...bullseye...but she had bigger fish to fry. 

“I’ll be back in a bit, don’t lock up,” she called over her shoulder and ducked under the metal garage door out onto the street. Headlights shone to meet her as a pick up truck pulled up into the driveway. 

“Didn’t pin you as a Ram man,” she quipped as it crawled to a stop and the passenger door popped open. She hopped into the seat and took the styrofoam cup the driver held out to her. 

Armitage, looking less formal than his first name, in a black T-shirt and joggers, parked the truck wordlessly into the nearest spot and leaned back into the head rest of the leather seat.  
He rolled his head to the side and looked at her under heavy lids.

“You’re welcome,” He drawled. 

Rose bit her lip and tried not to giggle, “Thanks Hux.” She had taken to calling him by his last name in conversation. Armitage was just too weirdly—intimate on the tongue. It made her feel like a lover from a soap opera. 

He sighed at the moniker, he had been trying to get her to say the former all week, then smiled. He reached over and gave her ponytail a tweak, “Glad you like it, Kit.” 

She blushed at the nickname and took a sip. Why he insisted on comparing her to a cat she hadn’t a clue but it had stuck. He regularly sent her stickers of an ill tempered feline in response whenever their bickering turned especially rowdy. 

They sat in comfortable silence. The slush was exactly what she had been craving. It was sweet and refreshing. She was half way through before she noticed him staring. 

“Do you want a sip?” He seemed to have his own drink laying untouched in the cupholder between them. She held her cup out to him nervously. His eyes looked hungry and she felt a little lost in them. They glinted blue then green in the dimming light of the setting sun. 

“Maybe just a quick taste...” he murmured down at her as if under a spell. His hand reached around her wrist and pulled her towards his chest. It all happened so fast that Rose didn’t even have the chance to close her eyes properly. 

His lips were indescribable on her own. He was electric almost tingling as his other hand reached to cup the back on her head. Rose could only stare bewildered at the long feather soft lashes that fluttered closed across from her own. He pulled away slightly and she gasped into him as he held her. She felt, rather than saw, him slip her drink from her hand into the cupholder between them. 

Then all she felt was him.


	4. Sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really Short chapter. Really Smutty chapter. 100% lemonade. This is my first time actually writing anything remotely kinky so please be gentle. I have totes major second hand embarrassment.

Cherries Jubilee— that’s what she tasted like. Sweet and intoxicating. It took everything in him to come up for air. 

She gasped under him. Her hair splayed like black silk putting his satin sheets to shame in their poor imitation. She was a goddess. All the more appropriate that he was now on his knees. The better to worship her. 

He gripped each of her glorious thighs in his hands and sighed in contentment as his darling girl mewled at the sudden pressure of his grip. 

“Armie you’re gonna break me if you do that...” She bit her plush bottom lip as she murmured down at him and he stiffened with a growl as her voice washed over him. 

With a quick tug of his fingers he ripped away the thin veil of elastic and lace that separated him from his prize. She screamed his name as his tongue once more found the pearl of her among her folds. He set a rhythm with his tongue, drawing it up slow and steady as she sung his name in a desperate melody. Armitage over and over until she peaked in a wild crescendo. He had never heard anything more beautiful.

That is until she begged. Dirty words falling from her lips like a prayer. He licked her from his lips and rose. He was good at answering. 

He was sheathed inside her in an instant. The song changed. His hips set a more desperate tempo to her ever rising melody. Her voice climbed high and sweet as her walls tightened. It was beautiful. She was beautiful...and his. All of her just for him. This was good, so good. She was so good. Such a good girl-his good girl. His darling kitten. His pace quickened. He was almost there...

“I love you.” She whimpered and his vision went white with ecstasy.


	5. Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short but steamy scene because I get cold feet and can’t write long smut scenes yet. Still practicing.

One thing Rose hadn’t expected about sex with Hux was how horny she was after. They had both peaked. She had never orgasmed so hard. She should have been done. She’d had flings before and had always found them satisfying...at least she thought she had. Now she wasn’t so sure. Especially now with his hand dipped between her thighs, tracing slow agonizingly delicious circles around her clit in a way that made her breath hitch and her vision blur. 

“You don’t have to do this.” She whispered hoarsely. It came out embarrassingly close to a whimper and he chuckled at the sound. The low rumble of him against her skin made her hips buck. She groaned. 

“Oh but I do,” he practically cooed. His breath tickled her ear and made her brain buzz with electricity that only intensified when his teeth nipped at her ear. He pressed just a bit harder and Rose swore into the scratchy stubble that evening had scattered under his chin. More rumbling. Funny he should call her Kitten when it was him who purred. 

“Armi- I want—,” she gasped but she couldn’t finished the thought. Despite the fact that they had only had two of these randy little rendezvous, Hux had some kind of uncanny ability to do just what she wanted before she could even ask. It was frustrating and yet devastatingly effective. Guessing just right, he slipped a finger deep inside and dipped his head down to suckle a mark into the soft spot just over her collar bone. He purred into her chest as her walls clenched around him. Stars, she was seeing stars. 

He lifted himself off her and shuffled himself down to the end of the bed, taking her legs with him as he held each of her shins. He spread her open and studied her like a sacred text. She grabbed a handful of flame red hair and pushed him away. A guttural whine of protest escaped him as he pried her hand off. He looked up at her in shock. 

“No?” He asked almost incredulously.  
She panted out a laugh and shook her head, “No.” 

He huffed and climbed up to nestle down next to her. He scooped her into his arms and rested his head in the crook of her shoulder, “damn...”

Another laugh rustled quietly out of her as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was still pounding, “You sound disappointed.” 

A soft mumble rumbled against her shoulder, “-almost to 5.”

She craned her neck to look at him, “What was that?” 

He huffed again and pressed his lips into a thin moody line, “5. I was almost to 5. I was about to break my record from last time.” 

Her brain screeched like dial up until it found the connection. Oh. She blushed hard, “You count them?” 

His pale cheeks flushed in response, highlighting the light dusting of barely there freckles that scattered like stars across the bridge of his nose, “Do you not want me to?” His eyes flickered stormy blue to a worried green in the dim light. 

Using the pad of her thumb, she rubbed smooth the crease that was forming between his eyebrows, “It’s okay.” She turned to face him and buried her head in his chest, “It’s kind of nice.” 

She felt more than saw him grin as his shoulders relaxed and his hand began to draw lazy circles at the small of her back. She smiled and breathed in the scent of him. Leather, mint toothpaste and a hint of petrichor. Her eyes began to drift closed. 

“Stay the night,” He whispered. Her eyes blinked awake as she looked up at him startled. He was looking down at her with a serious stare. 

She stammered, “ah, I-I don’t kno—“

He rolled himself on top of her and pinned her hands into the mattress, “Stay the night Rosie,” He pressed an agonizingly slow kiss to the soft spot under her chin, He whispered a single word like a prayer, a plea into the shell of her ear. 

“Please?”


	6. Whirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armitage actually pole dances for once and is fluffily rewarded.

Momentum, inertia, the cool ice of the metal pole warming under his palms, each rotation, each dip and bend an instinctual calibration of the body. The dancing suited him. Doing it in front of an audience had never been ideal but it paid the bills and it postponed the inevitable. 

Armitage gripped the pole in one hand as his stomach finished rolling through his final rotation and lowered himself with a quiet thump unto the cold linoleum of the club stage. Dawn filtered through the shuttered windows into a grid of light and shadow. He let out a breath and reached for his phone. 

Silence...

He unlocked the screen with an irritated flick and stared down at his last message. 

“I love you”

Clearly it had been a mistake. He had drunkenly sent the damned thing the night before last and it had been radio silence since. He blew it. He longed to blame it on the wine but it was his own damned fault. He still would have sent it. He loved her. It didn’t matter that it had barely been two months since she had blinked up at him from across the stage or that he had just learned her favorite color the week prior. He loved her in a desperate way that made his head spin and his heart clench. There was just something about her that screamed “one in a lifetime.”

...And yet he had blew it. He had overstepped and now he had scared her off. He should have known. He should have waited for her to say it first. She was delicate like her name and skittish. Practically feral in bed. Wasn’t that why he called her Kitten? He had coaxed her but had tried too much before she was ready. She had run off and there was no telling if any of it could be salvaged. 

He hopped off the stage and slumped down with a creak into the faux leather sectional. He reached into his duffle bag for a towel and wiped the sweat from his face. Damn.

He had been working on this new routine for her. Not that he thought she would come to see it but lately everything he did carried the scent of her. 

He heaved himself up and climbed back on stage. He swiped down his playlist until finally settling for the shuffle button. He flung himself back onto the pole as the music frenzied up into a dizzying symphony of crashing drums and guitar. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Armitage adjusted the cheap polyester dress cuffs and counted backwards as the final chords of Whitney Houston faded and the lights shifted from the white speckled glitter of the disco ball into the red frenzy of his new routine. Dameron emerged, bills fluttering to the ground with each step, and he flung himself past the shorter man onto the stage. He didn’t pause to preen as the other dancers did, it wasn’t his style. Instead his large strides carried him into the perfect momentum for his first rotation. He spun one handed and a group squealed to his left. His ignored it all for the first few spins and instead closed his eyes and let the music and the muscle memory carry him through the new routine. Hook the knee, tuck in the waist, roll, arch the back and keep it all in tempo. 

The house beat dropped and the beginning of the sparse vocals crooned through the cheap overhead sound system, “Nothing but youuuuu....” Armitage opened his eyes and fixed what he hoped was a smoldering gaze directly towards the spot where Rose had been when he first laid eyes on her. It had become a noticeable habit and the club had started charging more for the reservation. 

His eyes focused and he nearly fell mid rotation at what surely had to be a hallucination. She was there, in the booth alone, grease marks and all. Staring intensely up at him with those same sparkling eyes that had so captivated him that first night. He quickly corrected himself and hoisted back up the pole for the final descent. At this point he wasn’t sure which was beating faster, the music or his heart. 

He threw all of himself into the next set. Twisting and whirling at a pace that earned shrieks and applause from the crowd. The house beat ramped up for its final crescendo and he arched his back and pushed off into a leap for the dismount. One two rotations of pure air before he landed with a graceful smack of the linoleum against his feet. The crowd roared and a confetti of bills fluttered down like snowfall. Not that he cared. His eyes quickly searching and locking with the only woman in the damn club who mattered. Her eyes crinkled and she smiled. Her lips mouthed words but she was took far away and he didn’t understand. She laughed at the confusion on his face and lifted up her cellphone. She quickly tapped out a text. His eyes widened in recognition and he dashed off the stage, past a bewildered Mitaka towards his bag. 

He tore the phone out and unlocked the screen with fumbling fingers. He swiped hastily towards her message. It sparkled green and glorious, an emerald suspended in his message thread. 

“I love you too.”


	7. Shuffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Armitage don’t exactly follow conventions but they have good intentions.

It was getting hard to think straight. Each thrust was beginning to match pace with her heartbeat, fast, and her mind was beginning to cloud with ecstasy. Which is why she needed to finish her sentence—now.

“Arm...Armi...some...someone is going to see us,” She gasped out the words as his grip tightened around her ass. He growled, a dangerous stimulating sound, and rasped as he continued his relentless pace, “Good let them.” His teeth grazed her neck as her nails curled into his shoulder. She was going to leave a mark, he was going to leave a mark, she was going to—

“I want to them to see that you’re mine!” He bit out, biting into her shoulder with one last devastating thrust. It was too much— Rose swore. Her mind flashed white hot and she clenched as he spent himself inside her. A cry of release whimpered out of her lips and he faltered under her a moment before catching her hard against the metal siding of the back alley wall. They panted, heaving in sync a moment before his grip on her relaxed and he remembered himself. 

His eyes took her in greedily as he chuckled dryly, “I seem to have made quite a mess of you, haven’t I?” 

He fumbled with the front of her shirt, getting about three buttons down before she took over. They tidied themselves up, faces both flushed from exertion and the memory of the moment that has fueled their hasty retreat into the alley. Rose ran her fingers in her hair and laughed. 

“I guess I can scratch outdoor sex off my bucket list,” she chuckled shyly and reached for Armitage’s hand. It was warm and slightly sticky from—her earlier. She blushed harder. 

He gave her hand a squeeze and gave a mock frown, “That’s it? Is blushing bride not on your list?” 

Rose gave his shoulder a swat, “You can’t cross something off before you’ve done it, Armie, that’s not how it works.” 

He grinned down at her, “Looks like I got ahead of myself,” he took her other hand in his and gazed into her eyes, “I’m just surprised you said yes.”

Rose fought the urge to look away and tried not to lose herself in the hypnotic blue green grey that stared back at her. Frankly she was a bit surprised with herself as well. She had only gone to tell him she loved him. Maybe ask if she could be his girlfriend. Label the thing between them so it made sense...so they could do things in order. 

Do it in order—like they had ever worked that way. 

She had told him she loved him. They had sat at the bar long after his shift before she had worked up to it. He had been so patient. The way his eyes lit up when she admitted it, she would never forget. It was like she had released a dam. He had been a rushing current of sweet mortifying words that had swept her away down into an ocean of embarrassment. She had quickly taken his arm and pulled him out of the club, away from the smirking eyes of the bartender. 

He had babbled non-stop all the way out until she had pushed him against the wall and sealed his lips with a kiss. Then mercifully he had been silent. He had cupped her face in his hands like she was a precious treasure and kissed her like a rom com. Deep and breathlessly the way she had always wanted to be kissed. 

He pulled away and asked right there in the alley. Without thinking she said yes. It felt right. 

It still did. Despite the order being wrong, despite how rushed it might seem if she stepped back to look at it, being with Armitage felt right. Like she had found a piece that was missing. 

They ducked out of the alley and walked back towards his truck. Half way across the parking lot his hand stiffened in her’s and he gasped as if he had forgotten something. 

She glanced back to look at him, “What’s wrong?”  
He looked at her, his face comically devastated, “I didn’t get a ring.”


	8. The List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige give Armitage the 3rd degree.

The ice was sweating through the ziploc bag almost as much as he was as he fumbled with the snap together closure. His beautiful, glorious, how the hell was she even real, fiancé laid a dainty yet calloused hand on his arm and leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, “Relax Armie,” she cooed, “It’ll be fine.”

“It will not be fine,” commanded the voice that made him instantly flinch. A long arm snaked around him like a cobra to snap the bag from his hand. Attached was his disapproving, and soon to be, new sister in law who quickly pressed the bag of ice to her temple. 

“I can’t believe you fainted,” Rose (the one who currently loved him) scoffed. 

“I can’t believe you got married,” Paige (the one who currently hated him) spat, “Shit this hurts like hell.” 

“Engaged!” Rose snapped as Paige stomped past them to flop inelegantly into a tattered papasan chair by the window. 

“Same difference,” She grumbled as she shot him through with a laser glare. 

Armitage swallowed and instantly regretted it. His throat felt like sand paper. He wiped his hand on his jeans and squared his shoulders, “I don’t need your approval to love Rose.” 

Beside him Rose gasped a happy little noise that bolstered his spirit. In front of him Paige lounged as she bore into his soul with a long stare. 

Finally she nodded, “You’ve got guts for such a posh looking prick...I can respect that.” 

She tilted her chin and sniffed towards Rose, “Rosie gimmie the list.” 

Rose blanched, “Oh God.” 

He looked desperately between the two. An unspoken argument was traveling in the air between them. After several blinks and a scrunch of her nose Rose lost and threw her hands up in the air. 

“Ugh fine!” She cried, “but I’m not going to be here when you ask. It’s too embarrassing.” 

His eyes widened as he watched her march briskly into the other room. Several moments of clattered swearing followed before she emerged with a rectangular lump of glittered fur and threw it at her sister Paige. 

She crossed back to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before scrambling towards the door, “Sorry Armie, I’ll be back,” she paused at the open door and pursed her lips at her sister, “I’m going to get us something to drink.”

Paige waved over her shoulder and cracked open the mound of fur. Inside were the pages of a child’s journal. 

“Sit down Armie,” she barked. He quickly followed orders and stumbled his butt onto a stolen looking barstool. 

“Do you know what this is?” She squinted at him and waved the pages under his nose. Dust floated up from the fur and he sneezed. 

“I haven’t the faintest,” he sniffed and instantly regretted his choice of words. 

Paige leaned forward and slapped the spine of the journal, sending puffs of dusk into the air between them, “It’s your reckoning my dude.” 

He sighed and tried to get comfortable, “One has been due...”

“Ah a sense of humor,” she grinned, “Well-maybe you’ll make it out alive then.”

She pulled a pair of reading glasses out of the folds of her shirt and began flipping pages, “When me and Rosie were kids we made a game where we put together the perfect guy. We kept it going a little longer than we probably should have and my ideal “guy” is more of a girl now but it’s been like our bible.” She landed on a page and looked up at him. “Now it’s your turn.” 

What followed was the longest 30 minutes of Armitage’s life. 

“Do you go down?” It was amazing how straight a face she could keep. 

He flushed crimson, “yes...”

“Good,” she shook the gel pen in her hand to loosen the ink and added another pink glittered tally to the piece of paper on her lap. 

“When is her birthday?” 

He fumbled. She shook her head. 

By the end of it he was a frazzled mess and she looked pleased with herself. She folded the paper and slipped it into the journal right as the door creaked. The merciful sound of footsteps and plastic bags echoed through the room followed by the angelic chorus of his fiancé’s voice. 

“I’m back!” She sang, “I got us sandwiches!” 

He bounded from the chair and scampered to take the bags from her hand. They arranged the spread on the coffee table as Paige unfolded herself from the chair and migrated to the couch. 

She shoved the journal into Rose’s chest and grabbed a can of beer, “He passed.”

They both gaped.

“I did?”  
“He did!?”

Rose squealed and flopped down on the couch next to her sister, “Yes! In your face!” She cried giving her sister a playful shrug. 

Paige reached for a sandwich he had been eyeing and took a bite, “Just barely but yeah. He’s perfect for you.” 

A smile crept up on him. He barely noticed as Rose dragged him down onto the couch and shoved a can of beer into his hand. He lifted it, automaton, to his mouth but failed to take a drink. 

“I’ll be keeping my eye on you though,” she snarled before shoving the rest of the sandwich into her face. He barely heard her. A single word pounded in his ears to the rhythm of his heart beat...

...perfect.


End file.
